IC Inbox

[mrballisticsdummy]

Audio | Video | Text | Spam

Comments

11/12

[epistemological]

Don’t suppose you’re up for company?

Also, uh, happy birthday, obviously.

[mrballisticsdummy]

You know, I miss the days when people just wrote happy birthday on my Facebook wall and felt good about their lives.

Anyway, sure. I'm not busy. [Or annoyed.] What did you have in mind?

[epistemological]

No one feels good about that. Otherwise they wouldn’t need to post so many photoshopped pictures telling people how good they feel.

Your place or mine?

[mrballisticsdummy]

Better photoshopped pictures than terrible cartoon cat gifs or birthday balloons.

Yours. I'll be there in a bit.

[epistemological]

Door’s open. Come right in.

[mrballisticsdummy]

He does, closing the door behind him and shoving his hands in his pockets.

But it's not Jon he looks for first. Oh no. It's his best friend on four legs.

[epistemological]

Winifred is going to be the one greeting him and since Jon isn’t supervising, it will be enthusiastic and warm and a little slobbery.

Jon, for his part, will smile from over in the den.

“I see what had you really coming over…”

[mrballisticsdummy]

"You knew that already," he reminds him. But once Winifred (sorry, Martin, that's how he'll forever refer to her) has her attention pets, he leaves her to walk to the den and collapse onto the couch. "So what's up?"

[epistemological]

(Because it's her NAME. Winnie is a nickname. For Winifred.)

"Well," he says, "firstly, happy birthday," and he'll pull out a somewhat inexpertly wrapped present that has a few lumpy bits on one side. It's not just him being terrible, though, as the lumpy bits actually have something under them, it seems.

"And believe it or not, I wanted to see you. It's been a bit."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He takes the present and idly starts to open it.

"Little old me?" he mutters. "Aw, Jon. You shouldn't have."

[epistemological]

It is, in fact, a Gamecube and controller, a little scratched up but seemingly sound. Also taped to the side is a copy of Paper Mario.

"I think it still works," he admits, "and it was the best I could do, given the circumstances."

He's not great at gift giving or celebrating people in general (note the lack of cake or candle or anything because he hates that himself) but this had seemed simple enough.

"If you hate it, you can throw it away. No offense taken."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He inspects it with a grateful smile. "Yeah," he tells him. "I don't....have a tv, so it'll take some figuring out."

But that doesn't actually sound like a deterrent. Rather, he seems excited by the challenge of it.

"Also, next time you give a gift, maybe don't end with that last line. Your delivery sucks."

[epistemological]

"What else is new?"

That comes with a soft laugh and a nod.

"Point taken, however."

He considers the problem of the television.

"I think there might be on in Martin's if he'd be up for donating. T-that is if you'd want one."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Maybe," he shrugs. "Don't know if we're 'hey, give me your tv' friends, though." He sets the Gamecube aside, though keeps it close so he doesn't accidentally knock it over.